


Be Right There

by Except_on_Tuesday



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Detroit Police Department (Detroit: Become Human), Gavin Reed Being an Idiot, Gavin Reed is Bad at Feelings, Gen, Hurt Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Panic Attacks, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Unresolved Emotional Tension, Workplace Accident, heat exhaustion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:14:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23382136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Except_on_Tuesday/pseuds/Except_on_Tuesday
Summary: Gavin Reed’s impulsive anger almost changes the DPD forever.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 197





	Be Right There

Connor was hot.

Uncomfortably hot.

And having his shirt sleeves rolled up wasn’t helping as much as not wearing his shirt. But Captain Fowler had been clear in his response to Connor’s request that morning: “This is a police station, not an android nudist camp!”

 _As if those exist_. Connor had thought with some indignation. _Humans. So quick to exaggerate. I only asked about the shirt anyway_. The indignation burned almost as hot as his systems currently were. _I'm probably the most regulation conscious individual in the station._ But it also hurt a little that the captain could only be spared the time to criticize the android without a word regarding his years of conscientious dressing habits. 

He swallowed the bitterness, though. He knew weather played a part in emotional expression. And hot weather was definitely not his favorite. It made his cooling systems work overtime to maintain the necessary internal temperatures for his biocomponents. To say the least, it was distracting.

Connor was always careful to purchase temperature regulating clothing—his advanced processes often ran his systems hotter and faster than regular androids’—but he couldn’t always afford the high-price items and often had to settle for wearing linen or light cotton.

And normally that would be enough, but DPD’s Central Station’s A/C was down again.

Which was partly why he was currently in a maintenance room fiddling with the system and trying to locate the short that had caused the malfunction. He’d already checked all other possible reasons. All that remained to check was the actual hardware in maintenance room six.

The wiring between his fingers buzzed and the smell of electricity filled the small maintenance room. “Sh—t.”

“I’m dyin’ here, Tinman.” The muttered complaint came from Gavin who stood nearby, arms crossed over his sweat soaked shirt, cheeks flushed with the rising heat in the small room. “Get the phckin’ thing workin’.” He swept a hand over his face and flicked away beads of sweat which landed on the ground with a small 'splick'.

“You could LEAVE and wait outside in the hall like a normal, sane person with an actual brain.” Connor grit out. The added stress of monitoring Gavin’s high temperature was not helping his own overheating components as he attempted to reactivate the building’s cooling system. “Or go back up to the bullpen.”

“Pfft.”

The captain’s memo had told everyone to ‘f—king deal with it’ for the few days it would take maintenance to work through the sudden influx of requests due to the city’s heatwave at the start of the week.

The DPD would and could work through the discomfort and distraction; Fowler had reluctantly dug into the budget and purchased several large industrial fans for the lobby and the bullpen—all prisoners and suspects had been relocated, leaving the officers in the stifling heat—but the fans pushed around hot air and made it more miserable for the humans who could barely hear themselves think over the fans’ roar.

Besides, Gavin wouldn’t stop pushing paper, loose staples, pencils, and whatever else he found in his desk into the fan by his desk. The last paperclip had shot back out and nearly took an eye from a passing rookie.

It was in the best interest of everyone that the A/C came back online. Even though Captain Fowler had explicitly and repeatedly warned his intrepid people ‘NOT to touch the d—mn system.’ But, technically, he hadn’t said Connor, an android, couldn’t try to fix the A/C.

Connor had not been around for the fire suppression debacle of 2031. To him, Captain Fowler was an authoritarian, overbearing, over-stressed, and over-worked human who had zero concept of an android detective's full range of abilities. 

And Gavin was there watching him work....well...because unless he was catnapping or actively working a case the man was unable to sit still at his desk for long—the hot weather had made him even more prone to distraction. Without a case to take his attention, he latched onto any excuse to move or cause trouble, and, seeing right through Connor’s attempt to nonchalantly leave the bullpen, had followed him down to the cramped maintenance room. For the past few minutes he'd done nothing but complain.

"I'm serious, Detective," Connor said, using the human's title in an attempt to show that he really was serious, "You should move to a cooler location."

Gavin huffed and uncrossed his arms. “It's phckin' hot everywhere. An' somebody’s gotta—

“Is that concern I hear?” Connor could not resist. 

“Hell no! I just wanna be here when you get electrocuted.” Gavin kicked at the doorframe as he spoke.

Connor paused. “I think the heat’s getting to you, Detective Reed.”

“Huh?”

“You just said something nice.” He reached further into the compartment.

“I...WHAT?!" Gavin sputtered. "PHCK you! I didn’t say anythin’ f—in’ NICE! Ya d—mn robot! I wanna SEE you get electrocuted!”

Connor went on tiptoe to extend his reach; he thought he saw something odd wedged in the small space behind the bundles of wiring. “No. You said you wanted to be here for me if I got hurt.” He extracted the object and stared at it. “Gav—

“Shut up!” A rough shove against his back slammed the android into the wall panel.

\--

Upstairs, the lights dimmed, flickered, and went out.

\--

“Oh, hell, oh phck....” Gavin crouched in the dark over the android’s prone, motionless form. “Ah, hell, d—mmit!” He gently rolled the android over onto his back. “Connor?!”

No response.

Swearing as if that would revive the android, Gavin fumbled his phone from his pocket and called the first name on his contact list. “Anderson! Get down here!”

“Whoa, Reed?” Hank’s voice came over the phone’s little speaker. “Slow down, what?”

“It’s frickin’ Connor!”

Hank stood, hand clenched around the phone until the plastic creaked, “Reed, d—mmit—

“Maintenance room six! The LED thingy’s all not there; it’s phckin’ dark! Door’s jammed. D—mn thing’s locked! Get s’phckin’ people down ‘ere!”

Even while Hank’s heart raced, the rising panic in Gavin’s voice triggered the lieutenant’s instincts. “We’re on the way.” To Chris, he snapped, “Accident. Maintenance room six. Connor and Gavin. Get an android tech and the Ram.”

\--

"Don't be dead, don't be dead, don't be dead." Trapped in the dark and stifling hot room, Gavin wiped perspiration from his face with the back of his arm. Still muttering curses, he compulsively tapped Connor’s LED as if it was the power button on his always crashing work computer. “Wake up, wake up, wake up. C’mon don’t do this, little buddy...”

That was when he realized his hand braced against the floor was hot and sticky. “Da hell?” He switched on his phone’s flashlight and saw a growing stain of thirium soaking through the android’s white dress shirt and pooling onto the floor.

Feeling a new surge of adrenaline through his already wracked system, Gavin pulled open the shirt and saw a deep gash in Connor’s chest.

Swinging around on one knee, his hand instinctively going for his own weapon, Gavin shone the light at the maintenance panel. Blue blood dripped from the wiring and onto the floor. The light trailed down the stained wall to the floor.

A knife covered in blue blood.

Connor’s blood.

Gavin turned back to the android. _Stabbed._ “How? Wh—

“Gavin!” Hank’s voice came through the door. “We’re—

“Anderson!” Gavin cut him off. “He’s frickin’ bleeding. Penetrating wound in the chest! The hell I do?”

A loud crunch came from the door as it shuddered under the impact of the battering ram.

“We’ll have you out in a minute!”

“He ain’t got a minute! It’s everywhere!”

On the other side of the door, Hank stepped back to give the officer swinging the battering ram more room. He called Gavin’s cell.

“WHAT?!”

THAT concerned Hank more than anything. Reed never panicked.

Everyone knew the story of when Reed had stolen a grenade out of evidence and slammed it onto the table in interrogation room B to make a suspect talk faster about the location of the other hidden explosive.

The closest thing to panic that Hank had ever seen from Reed was when he’d held together a wounded Ben after a mail bomb had nearly killed the older detective.

“Connor’s going to be fine.” Hank forced himself to hide the growing fear in his own voice for Reed’s sake. “You need to stay calm.” He hoped desperately it was not a lie. 

“I AM CALM!”

The ram struck the door again and Hank heard the echo on Gavin’s side. “Listen, kid, get the chest panel open.”

A flurry of swearing followed by a mechanical hiss and a yelp of surprise. “PHCK! That didn’t help! It’s worse now!”

“It’s just build up from the bleed—

“Oh, hell. It’s cut.”

“What’s cut? Gavin TALK to me.”

“Dunno. The thingy.”

_Not the pump. Please, not the pump._

The ram hit the door again and it buckled slightly.

“Is the pump working?”

“Yeah. ’s fine. This other...thing’s the problem.....all.....hey...I think—

A sharp yelp of surprise.

“Detective Reed, why is your hand in my chest?”

Hank sobbed in relief at the sound of his partner’s voice.

\--

Keeping the cut thirium tubing compressed between his fingers, Gavin leaned over Connor to protect him when the door was finally ripped away. The android tech was the first into the room. Hank close on her heels.

The tech nodded as she saw Gavin’s efforts. “Good." She noted the tremors that sent minor shakes through the damaged line. "You’re doing good, detective. Hold like that for just another minute.” 

The pale detective's mouth formed soundless words as he stared at the slowly leaking thirium spreading through his fingers. If anyone noticed that his other hand gripped Connor's nearest forearm, the synthetic skin pulsing under his grip, no one called him on it.

The tech pulled open a packet of repair tape and prepared to wrap the damage site. “Okay, move.”

Gavin winced and pulled away, holding his cramped hand to his chest and then stuffed it away between his arm and side to hide the trembling. “He okay then?”

“I’m fine.” Connor, still flat on the floor, rolled his eyes. “It was a minor shock that caused my system to temporarily drop offline. You’re the one—

Gavin’s flushed face paled and he seemed to shrink in on himself. “What-phckin’-ever.” He pushed through the little crowd. “Move.” He muttered and shouldered past Chris and Ben. He didn’t hear their calls to him over the roaring sound in his ears.

The hall was much longer than when he’d trailed Connor down it only a few minutes earlier.

_Connor._

The prissy little sass-bot. Hank’s...child-partner....Ben’s adopted...grandson-nephew-thing.....Chen’s ....tough girl-talk-bud....Chris’ analogue co-moral-compass-of-the-bullpen. Everyone’s SOMETHING.

And they had all come so close to losing the android. And it would have been all his fault. 

“Phckin’ robots.” He muttered as he climbed the steps to the station’s main rooms. The sticky, warm, wetness of the android blood made his pants’ fabric stick to his legs with each step.

He made it halfway before his legs gave out and he stumbled against the wall, catching himself on the banister and—half-sitting half-falling—he landed hard on the step and curled his arms around himself as he folded in over his knees. _They always break._

“D-d—mmit.” He pulled in a shuddering breath as his vision tunneled, making the already narrow stairway even thinner. Sweat dripped off his nose onto his shoe.

“Reed?”

 _Not the captain. Please. Not him._ Gavin sucked in a wet breath and curled tighter. “Don’t.”

“Then scoot over.” Fowler said from somewhere above. “You’re blocking the stairs.”

Gavin reached up for the bannister and easily levered himself upright and leaned heavily on it. A hand wrapped around his bicep.

“Come on.” Fowler tugged on the resistant arm. “Don’t you jerk away from me. Let’s go upstairs. You need to cool down.”

“I’m PHCKING calm!” Gavin snapped, head down as he decided that air was too complicated and settled for just...not.....

\--

Fowler caught the heat-exhausted sergeant as the younger man collapsed. “D—mmit, Reed.” He grumbled and grunted as he struggled to get Reed into a fireman carry. “Break my neck and back....”

Not for the first time, Fowler wished Reed had a partner that could manage the stubborn man. Someone whose back wouldn’t break while carrying him, for one.

Gavin always pushed himself beyond the point of self-care and frequently ended up somewhere alone, licking his wounds in the dark. He needed someone who could be there for him. Someone who wasn’t easily pushed away.

Fowler thought Connor would be the perfect choice, but Hank refused to let Connor work with Reed.

‘He’s too dangerous.’ Hank had protested. ‘You know how many times he’s gotten Connor hurt.’

Fowler had to agree. Reed was a good detective, but he always landed himself neck deep in trouble, dragging whoever was with him along for the ride. _Maybe if he had a partner he wouldn’t get to that point._

Ben was out of the question. Not after what had happened between him and Reed.

Fowler kicked open the door and exited the stairwell, careful not to smack Gavin’s hardhead into the doorframe. Didn’t want to add to the station’s weekly repair bills.

\--

Gavin came to in cool darkness. It took a minute for everything to wash over him and he sat bolt upright. He fell back against the couch, hand against his forehead. “Ah’m....not good.” He murmured.

“It’s called heat-exhaustion. Drink this.” Connor's voice was not overly-friendly, but Gavin couldn't blame him for that. 

A cool water bottle was pressed into his hands.

Instead of acting on the swell of regret, Gavin snapped out, “What do you want?”

“Captain said—what’s that look for?” Connor’s brow wrinkled and he frowned. “He just said that you weren’t feeling well and went to lie down. I came to check on you.”

“Oh.” Gavin drew in a carefully slow breath. "That's all?" The oxygen came smooth and easy, like it was supposed to. _Good._ He sipped at the water.

“Hank’s upset.” Connor said, leaning forward. He frowned again at the flinch and glare that crossed the other detective’s face. “Now what?” He paused. "You're not blaming yourself are you?"

"'course not." Gavin muttered as he capped the bottle and rolled it between his hands.

Connor gave him a disbelieving look. “Anyway. The thing that cut me was—

Gavin got up from the couch with a growl and a massive scowl. “Shut up.”

“Where are you going?”

“Out.” The door slammed.

After Gavin was gone, Connor rubbed his shoulder. It felt cold where Gavin had deliberately not touched him. _Guess he is guilty._ He sighed and dragged his palms over his head and down his neck. _Is this the neck pain Hank talks about sometimes?_ It was rather unpleasant.

\--

“So anyone wanna explain why there was a f—king knife in an electrical panel?”

“I scanned it.” Connor said, sliding into the discussion in the briefing room with practised ease. “It’s been wiped clean of prints, but I ran a cross check of unsolved cases in the area involving stabbings and I believe that this is the missing knife from the 2000 cold case involving—

“Harvey the butcher.” Gavin said, putting the title in air quotes, as he spun idly in his chair. All signs of his earlier misery buried under a façade of carelessness. “Repeatedly broke into this station. Killed a lot of good men and women before he was finally caught.”

“But you never found the murder weapon.”

“I wasn’t even IN phcking Detroit at the time!” The only times Gavin seemed to have an actual spine to prop himself up with in a chair during a meeting was when he got riled up.

“Reed, settle down. He wasn’t accusing you of anything.” Fowler cut in. “The point is, the case was closed and Harvey was sentenced to life imprisonment.”

Gavin’s muttering and scowl let everyone know what he thought about that outcome as he slid back down in his chair and crossed his arms.

“And let’s just be grateful that,” Fowler looked at Connor, “everyone in the here and now is okay.” If he was upset about having his memo ignored, he was doing a good job of hiding it. It was no small thing for a captain to have a brown out in his station followed by an officer down alarm. 

Nods from all, but Gavin. He slouched further into his chair. "Whatever." He grumbled. "Is this phckin' peace an' love android rally mandatory or what?"

"You're dismissed." Fowler gave the permission with a warning look that Gavin might have flipped off if it had come from anyone else. 

Scowling, he flicked the side of Connor’s head as he passed the android’s chair on his way out. “Next time Cap’n says not to phckin' screw around with the A/C you should listen.”

“You were there too!” Connor rubbed the side of his head and glared.

Gavin halted halfway through the door. His hand tightened on the handle. "Yeah." His voice was thick and his eyes stared with too much interest at a scratch on the door handle. "Lucky you, huh?”


End file.
